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User blog:Silverfang of ThunderClan/Fanfiction: Never
Note: This is not the full story. It will be fully done in a few days. Check out a behind-the-scenes version of the Wolves of the Beyond books. ' 'One Two pups were born to the horrid MacHeath clan lately. Blythe is one wolf's name, with his russet fur, and an odd water-ring on his forehead. Edme, the other, is a beautiful little pup, with rusty brown fur like her brother. Blythe seemed unaware of anything. "Little pup, little pup, why won't you listen?" Akira, his mother, sang out. Nothing could get to him. It wasn't possible, and the whole clan knew. He would be a malcadh, a speechless one. So there the obea, Airmead, came, but Dunbar stopped her. He insisted to handle it himself. "Alright..." Airmead hesitated. No pups were to be maimed anymore, because they had a malcadh, a true one! But Dunbar must have forgot, because he slashed the pup down it's eye line. He didn't have to waste his time with Blythe. "Now the next..." he cut off himself, "Akira! Hand over the female!" Her jaw dropped. She knew Blythe would die... But her wonderfully normal Edme? It happened all to quickly. One of Dunbar's deadly claws ripping down Edme's fragile face, her eye gone. She lay there in the ground, bleeding to death. A flame flared in Akira. They murdered one and maimed the next... Akira charged toward Dunbar, slashing his face, going for his eye like he did Edme's. "Revenge!" she howled. Two pups; one maimed, one thought dead. Their father was nowhere to be found, and Akira had abandoned them and fled. Perhaps to the MacNamara clan, though she has a slim chance of making it. Not many MacHeath wolves have successfully made it to the MacNamaras. Dunbar and his slink melf must have found out. Akira was no more. Edme, although recently maimed, was fine, she was just very frightened and a bit bloody. Blythe, on the other hand, had vanished. But, no one cared. They had a new gnaw wolf, in favor of placing her in the Sacred Watch! The MacHeaths would take it over! Blythe hadn't wandered far. He was sitting on MacDuncan territory, the pack of the Eastern Scree. And so he padded around, watching the wolves run a byrrigis, seeing a raghainaid cave, and watching a silver wolf being carried by the obea. A malcadh! This wolf had an odd paw with otherworldly markings on the bottom, nothing like he'd ever seen. One wolf, looking very sweet, passed by. She saw this adorable little pup sitting, looking up at her. "Do you have a home?" she asked. Blythe shook his head. So this nice she-wolf, named Tamsen, picked him up and have him to Duncan MacDuncan, her chieftain. He named him Heath, beacuse he smelled of MacHeath. It was unusual for a MacHeath to wander into MacDuncan territory... And thus he stayed, participating in byrrrigises, howling in gaddergludders, until one wolf came into the pack's way. A wolf with the Foaming Mouth Disease! The speechless young wolf's mind went numb. He smelled the silver one-the malcadh carried by the obea, with the spiral! He survived! No-they were wrong. He didn't have the Foaming Mouth Disease! "Heath, come, we must run to find this diseased wolf!" Duncan howled. Blythe obeyed, and followed his chieftain. He overheard about the wall of fire they would lead him into. The importance of that wolf shined in his eyes. They can't kill him! He started on, trotting in the back of the''byrrigis''. Soon enough, the wolf ran to the fire. But he jumped! he jumped for the sun! He made it, the important one! Now what is his name? Blythe watched the chieftains discuss what happened. They even called him 'walking moon rot'! ''He thought angrily. ''No. This wolf is the best thing that ever happened to the Beyond! ''He heard more: "It takes a long time, a very long time to become a fine gnawer. Gnawing is an art. You now qualify to become a gnaw wolf, and if you gnaw well, you may join the Watch at the Ring of Sacred Volcanoes. You will become a member of the clan of the MacDuncans. We shall soon decide which pack you will join, and name you." Duncan spoke. "Sir, let the gnaw-bone know I have a name," the wolf spoke, "My name is Faolan." he looked around at everyone, and said with more pride "Call me Faolan." ''So Faolan was his name! Everyone must rermember this name! ''Blythe thought. 'Two' "Faolan," Blythe actually spoke. "I must tell you something." "Yeah, Heath?" Faolan said as he twisted his muzzle into the dirt. "No need for that nonsense. Call me Blythe. But, I saw you get taken to your ''tummfraw, the river! I knew you were a special wolf, mostly because of your spiral marks, but truly, now and forever, you shall be more important than Lupus himself!" "Alright, thanks, but why does it matter? I will still be beaten up and nipped at." "Maybe, but not by me. I respect you because of that." Faolan was stunned. This wolf, his same age, was telling him great things. Respected, special, important. Everything I'm not. ''Faolan thought. But Faolan was happy with the odd things he said. ''Blythe. Blythe... It sounds so familiar... But Blythe was dreaming. He wished he could talk, so he could spill out a year's worth of words. He, too, was a gnaw wolf, but he wasn't one that had a spiral mark. Suddenly, he remembered something. It wasn't his to remember though. One wolf, who was black and gray, had concentric circles on his forehead, much like Blythe's own. Fengo was walking in front of him, talking about his spiral marking on his paw. Like Faolan's! ''Blythe thought. Then an owl came by, whom was Grank, the first coillier. Fengo and himself chatted, asking Grank about the coilliering was like today. "It's great today," the owl spoke, "the winds are perfect, and Stormfast is erupting very frequently. Dunmore, how's your day been?" He had asked Blythe. "Wonderful! What a joy it is to be a Watch Wolf! Such a brilliant creation of ''ours!" Dunmore answered. "Fengo, may I ask you a question?" Grank asked. "Why, of course," Fengo said "What will you call the leader of the Sacred Watch?" "I have an idea! In honor of you leading us from our ice-locked land, we shall name the highest Watch Wolf, or leader of the Sacred Watch, the Fengo!" Dunmore interjected. "Why not?" Fengo smiled. That wasn't Blythe's to remember, or for any reason to remember. That was ancient wolf conversations, which happened more than 1,000 years ago. His eyes flashed open. It was all just a dream... I must be a reincarnation of Dunmore MacDuncan-but why? I was a MacHeath. Sure, I live in the MacDuncan clan, but I'm no MacDuncan wolf! ''He thought. Blythe gave up sleeping. He ran to the ''gadderheal ''of the MacDuncan Careg Gaer, where, to his suprise, a ''raghanaid ''was taking place. "...and you should know that a ''gaddergnaw ''is going to be held," the dying chieftain rasped, "I wish for you to take place in it." "Yes, sir, I will," Faolan spoke. Something disturbed him though. He saw something in the fire-or beyond that, Duncan himself. His life was ending quickly, and Faolan saw it. Blythe ran away from the MacDuncans. He had heard of these ''gaddergnaws... But he had never thought of doing that, it was simply too complicated. Maybe the MacAnguses are a good fit... ''Blythe thought.'' And so he started sleeping again. He was sleeping far away from the clan, like he was usually told to do so, but he just did it now out of habit. He heard tearing, ripping, gnawing, and...Clicking! '' 'Three' A cracked tooth... A vicious howl of triumph... A murdered ''malcadh... Now, if there's one thing Blythe's good at, it's going unnoticed. So he watched the whole thing with his silent eyes. If he reported it, that wolf would be dead, it's blasphemous to murder a malcadh! Who in the name of Lupus would do such a thing?! ''He thought. Blythe smelled the silver one, Faolan. ''He couldn't have done it! Did he? ''No, he smelled someone else. It was that wolf from the River Pack... ''Oh, what was his name? ''The yellow gnaw wolf, the one with no tail, who also was competing in the ''gaddergnaw... '' The thoughts started to drive him ''cag mag, his mind was spinning. Should I report him? Or not? Blythe let out a scream. The yellow murderer heard him, and ran in his direction. "You want to end up like her? I advise you shut your muzzle right right this instant!" he shouted. Running with the help of his friend adrenaline, he managed to get ahead of the vyrrwolf, ''but not for very long. He rushed up and bit his tail, saying "You will be begging for mercy very soon!" but what he didn't know was that Blythe couldn't speak. So he ran at attack speed, and quickly jumped under a bush. The yellow wolf was sniffing about, looking less intelligent than the rock he was sniffing. ''Well, you're not going to be very smart if you murder someone! ''This was true, for he just left. He saw him lick the blood off of his muzzle, and walk to his pack. Blythe heard some wolves saying "Heep, you were gone too long!" and "You bad wolf! Heep, you will be punished!" just because he was gon etoo long. ''So Heep's his name... A phenomenal name for a dangerously dumb wolf. The murderous images stayed withe Blythe. Remembering what happened, he fainted. He lay there, not willing nor wanting to ever get up. And he stayed dead still for two days. Suddenly though, on the second day, he jolted awake. The gaddergnaw! I am going to miss it! ''He ran at press-paw all the way to the MacDuncans. It had started already, but he saw the silver wolf, Faolan, and the yellow wolf, Heep, running in a ''byrrgis. There were others, whom he learned the names from the packs. Tearlach, the golden MacAngus wolf. Creakle, the ash-gray MacDuff wolf. Edme, the rusty MacHeath wolf. And the Whistler, who was also a MacDuncan wolf, was light gray.'' How pequliar, that all of these wolves' deformities seemed to also be their strengths. Maybe mine is, too!'' Then the clicking started again. He could hear it-and he knew Faolan could, too. Blythe saw the desperate look in his eyes, and finally he could not take it anymore. He ran off without a sound, making sure nobody saw. But they did see-and he saw the Fengo, Finbar, look him right in the eyes. Finbar saw something, something that was contained deep within his circle mark... He flashed a face of wonder and awe, then turned away. The suspense was killing him. Blythe needed to tell Liam of the murderous Heep! But how? He couldn't speak! It was then decided. He ran back to the gaddergnaw, only to find Heep accusing Faolan of his own crimes. They deemed him to a slow-tearing, one of the most terrible ways to kill a wolf. Faolan tried to convince them, but Heep was winning. A sly smile slowly draped across Heep's face. Blythe knew why he wanted Faolan to die. Not intirely out of jealousy, but mostly of hope. Idiotic hope, the hope to become a Watch Wolf, so when the Ember of Hoole is retrieved, his tail would be restored. He knew that Faolan would beat him, but Heep could not let happen. The wolves believed that the silver outsider killed the malcadh ''pup, and they called him a "''Vyrrwolf ''sent straight from the Dim World". "No!" Blythe was dumbfounded. He, in a proud voice, spoke. "STOP! Liam MacDuncan, Faolan did NOT do this! I saw it with my own two eyes! He snickered as it happened, and while he was going back to his pack, he licked his blood off of his muzzle! I saw it, you HAVE to believe me!" "Yeah, and look at the gashes in the bones. They, if you look at Heep's teeth match up perfectly!" two tawny she-wolves spoke. Liam walked up to Blythe, and asked if it was true. He supported his answer, but before they could start the tearing, Heep ran. He ran into the Outermost in wheren Heep found two outclanners, and ganged up on Faolan. "I know where the bone of your precious Thunderheart is! You order the wolves back, or I shall destroy it!" Faolan resisted the taunt. He called the wolves up, and they ran him into the Outermost for good. Heep didn't show up the entire time. "And to announce the winners of this year's ''gaddergnaw! ''Finbar announced, "Now, they weren't the highest scoring in the ''byrrgis, ''but they showed exellent gnawing skills. Faolan MacDuncan of the pack of the Eastern Scree, congratulations! And Edme MacHeath, congatulations! " Everyone was howling in delight. They deserved to win. Mhairie and Dearlea, high ranking wolves from the Carreg Gaer, were howling the loudest. Faolan, if anyone, deserved to be a Watch wolf. "Yes, yes, yes!" Blythe was very excited. But little did he know that his sister would be a wolf of the Sacred Watch. 'Four' Liam MacDuncan, the chieftain, came to Blythe. He told him that since he could now talk, he was no longer a true ''malcadh nor a true gnaw wolf. So he became released of his gnawing duties, and was now being considered to be a turning guard. Blythe was very fast, and has a lot of stamina. He had to get away from the MacDuncans for a while... Meanwhile, Faolan and Edme are new at the Sacred Watch. Blythe sees the taigas race down the volcanoes and happily greet the pair. He was allowed to go the the Ring because he was born an outsider, while the MacDuncans didn't care much for another useless wolf. Something stirrs in the bushes ahead. It's the MacHeaths. ''Raspy voices seeped from the thick, tangled bushes. Plans are being hatced ever so slowly. Blythe crouches down, and moves foreword slowly on his paws. His ears perk and twist, hoping to hear every little word. Someone whispers to softly for him to hear, so Blythe moves closer. His paw gets stuck in a thorn bush, and he yelps. "Who was that?" No one answers."I said WHO WAS THAT?!?" Dunbar yelled. Blythe rustles the bush, and Dunbar watches. He laid his ears flat, stood quickly, and ran. Ran for his life. It was a ''byrrigis ''of all of the MacHeaths, who needed to take care of all that heard the plot. Blythe ran even faster, but finally they came up to him. Fretta, one of the stronger she-wolves, pounced on him and took him down. "What a shame it must be for such a handsome wolf like you to go to waste," though Fretta spoke with no trace of sympathy whotsoever. Blythe flinched, then thought about how he could get out of this. She reached down to bite his flank when Dunbar called him out. "Wait. If you help us like any other MacHeath wolf would, she shall-I mean we shall spare you." He sighed. "What do I have to do?" Dunbar explained about the cubnapping, the "free runner" ordeal, the ''slink melf, and most importantly, the MacHeaths would overrule the Sacred Ring. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Back at the Ring, Faolan is just figuring out what is happening with the cub and the MacHeaths. He, being raised by a bear, would be torn apart if the war started. He would lose it if one drop of grizzly blood was shed. "Why didn't they tell me this?" Faolan asks. It takes a while for Edme to find her words. "It's you, Faolan." "Of course it's me." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The MacHeaths watched the Ring's activity closely. Blythe shuddered at the whispers of one particularly hostile wolf. She trotted down the slope with a flick of her white-tipped tail, Dunbar nodding in approval. Fretta, the gray she-wolf, was plotting the cubnapping with the muttering of her own words. "I'll pretend to play, then, boom! I'll strike faster than a snake." Two wolves pranced after her. It made Blythe sick that they were so happy-go-lucky. The prisoner couldn't believe the mess he'd gotten himself into. Blythe shook his head to push the terrible thoughts away. The red-furred, green-eyed wolf noticed another rusty red wolf. Her pelt was exactly like his. He wondered if it was possible that they'd meet. He was, after all, MacHeath, and so was she. She won the gaddergnaw, and Blythe remembered her name: Edme. Edme, it sounds so familiar... I just can't put my paw on it though. Being a highly intellectual wolf, Blythe knew that somehow he'd need to get out of this. He blinked thoughtfully, and followed the cubnappers. Maybe the stupid wolves wouldn't notice him gone... And that they didn't. Blythe scurried soundlessly out of sight. He ran down the rolling hills, scrabbling at the loose rocks and yellowed, dead grasses. A flash of cream and brown blinded him completely. Skidding to a halt, Blythe watched as the figure, now known as a passing owl, smack the ground. "Hey! What was that?" he hissed; the words coming out like sizzling embers from a volcano. The owl cocked its head. "What was what?" "Never mind," the angry wolf grumbled. Blythe sat up, brushed his fur rapidly with one paw, and set off again. The owl's head kept twirling, as if hoping to have some understanding in why the wolf was so grumpy. He opened his beak, attempting to say something, but shut it just as fast. Blythe turned his head back and said darkly, "You don't know what's happening, do you?" ''Five'' The owl gaped. He had no idea what had happened until now, but Blythe had told him, and was short of no details. He told the owl not to tell a single spirit, afraid that the MacHeaths would find out and slay him. Arthur, the owl, promised to not speak a word. "Now that I told you, can you leave and, Lupus forbid, you say it to somebody, tel them that your friend saw it. Your friend Skylar, yes, Skylar. Understood?" Blythe warned him, not expecting an answer. Arthur flew away, toward the Ring again. His feathers swooped up in the blink of an eye, and before you would know it, he was gone. Blythe was happy that the cag mag owl had gone past. "I hope you don't make it to tell somebody!" He shouted angrily at the sky where the owl used to be. Blythe trudged over the ridge. He watched the sun waver in the sky and slowly sink into the horizon. A crackle of a dry leaf caused him to prick his ears. The red wolf smelled deer. Without a sound, he slinked forward, and leaped onto the buck's rear. It was hard to take a young, strong deer down alone, but Blythe was also strong, stronger than the deer. He was packless, clanless, so he didn't need to worry about the death ritual. The wolf was well aware that he'd wander the skies alone one day. Even though it was just the start of the summer, the deer meat was tough and stringy. Too much muscle, not enough real meat, he thought. When dusk made its first appearance, Blythe saw orange-tinted feathers overhead. It was Arthur again, but he didn't know what the owl wanted from him now. Eyes closed, the wolf said his name twice. "Arthur...Arthur. What could you possibly want now?" The owl shifted as if he were nervous. "I-I kind of used what you told me as a cover-up." Blythe immediately sat up and growled through clenched teeth. "You moldwarpy cur! How dare you?" "But I told a wolf of the Watch!" "Even worse." Arthur spilled everything to the other wolves. He used the information as a cover up for crooked flying, which apparently was because he was dazed by Blythe's story. The wolf was furious. "At least I didn't tell them about you," Arthur chirped. Blythe mumbled in frustration, "Yeah, 'at least'. I'm so glad I know someone as trustworthy as you." Category:Blog posts